


Your daughter doesn't like men, sir

by Marionette_Ame



Category: Noblesse (Manhwa)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 04:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17656031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marionette_Ame/pseuds/Marionette_Ame
Summary: Rozaria has only ever really had one lord, and even then, not one of authority.





	Your daughter doesn't like men, sir

The first time Rozaria sees her lord is when she is only a child. When she is young and wild, and ignorant of how the world works.

Rozaria runs from her clanswomen and crouches in the rose bushes of the Loyard Garden, ignoring how the thorns tear up her clothes and scratch her skin. The angered voices of the two scientists she pranked (dyeing sheep wool green isn't bad. unless the experiment you're conducting has chemicals that are nullified by that dye and when you're thirteen years into said experiment. not that she dyed it though. she only replaced it with dyed wool and the actual experiment is in the cupboard of their lab room. her clan is _way_ too uptight) ask Lusar if he saw her run by.

He won't tell them the truth of course. Why would he? Rozaria is the only one who helps him to understand all the material that they need to know to be the gaju of their clans in the future (in the long distant future) because she's the only one in their age group who doesn’t think he's weird or stupid for not understanding it right away. It's hard for her to think he is, after all, Rajak from the Kertia clan doesn't even know that there are fiction books! Just because Lusar is a slow learner doesn't mean he's an idiot.

He's much more relatable at the very least. Unlike all the other nobles he'll play pranks with her and likes to hear her stories! For a Loyard he's loud, and she likes being his friend. She adores being his best friend more.

“I'm sorry, but I haven't seen Rozaria today. Maybe she's at the Mergas territory. She really likes talking to Ludis so it's possible!”

The way that he talks is amazing and she really needs to get him to teach her how to fake her emotions realistically. She's pretty sure he can even fake cry and if that isn't cool than you're just being mean.

The bush rustles as her two clanswomen leave, its thorns digging deeper into her skin. They're _really_ pissed. When she finally can't hear them anymore she stands up and walks out of the bush.

Changing her clothes is easy enough, like blinking, though those get stained by tiny drops of blood too.

“Ria!” Lusar shouts, hugging her tightly. He immediately moves away though, eyes widening at the scratches on her.

“Oh my gosh Ria are you okay? I'm so sorry I shouldn't have just hugged you like that.” He flitters around her, checking her scratches even as they heal and she rolls her eyes, grinning.

“What? Like it hurts? You think you're strong enough for that?”

Pouting, Lusar replies, “I was just worried. You never know when something can happen.”

She stares at him.

“...Paranoid. You're way too paranoid.”

He just keeps on pouting and she smiles. Deciding to change the subject she leans in close.

“Hey hey hey! We should go to visit the Agvain territory. Miss Anka might be there and I haven't seen her since forever.”

His entire mood vanishes at that, and he’s back to being happy like always. For a Loyard he's too easily influenced.

“Right!”

She takes his hand and drags him through the Loyard Garden, it's much too hard to follow the paths because then they'd only reach the edge of the territory at the end of the day. Lusar is squeaking as he's continuously smacked by branches but that's his own fault. Doesn't he know how to duck? It's not even that dark, especially not as they're in the middle of the Tradio Gardens (it should be called a forest though, there's no way that the Tradio actually take care of the whole place) where half the plants are glowing and the other half are trying to eat them. How is he having trouble?

Still, they're out of the Tradio grounds soon enough. Other nobles always seem to fear them, and speak of how those who go in will forever be lost to the trees. Of how only the Tradio truly belong there. It's stupid. How can you possibly get lost if you travel in a straight line? Adults really don't ever think about anything do they? If they really find it that troublesome then they should just jump up and see where to go from there. She'd suggest setting the place on fire but she likes the Tradio Gardens, plus, Urokai-gaju seems to be a fan of the place too, even though he doesn't like Lagus-gaju nearly as much. Making him sad by causing the gardens to burn down would be a definite no. After all, he even lets her hang around with him and lets her listen to his conversations with Edian-gaju and Gradeus-gaju instead of shooing her away like all the other gaju do.

She's not entirely sure what the words ‘fuck', ‘dipshit’ or ‘punkass bitch' mean but she's sure she will one day. Though, by the way Edian-gaju said them Rozaria doesn't ask her mother about it. She probably wouldn't be pleased.

By the time they reach the village around the Agvain Rose Gardens (another weird name because the flowers in the giant walls and maze of thorns don't look anything like the roses the Loyards grow. Miss Anka says that they're actually called the Wild Rose Flowers and are the original ancestors of the ones that the Loyards have. that they're as beloved to the Agvains as their own children because they're grown from their blood and tears. Rozaria finds that fancy way of saying hard work dumb but she doesn't say anything to her creepy smile) Lusar is clutching onto her clothes so hard that he may as well be clinging to her back. Normally that would be fine and she would even carry the scaredy-cat. Today's not normal though because Miss Anka is talking to the most beautiful lady she's ever seen.

She doesn't look like she's an adult but she's still way older than Rozaria and Lusar. Her aura feels a bit like the lord's and that must mean she's his daughter, she certainly is as pretty as he is. Maybe more because her hair looks really nice in that style and it feels as if she'd look a lot cooler with a sword than her father. Just like Edian-gaju does!

They're talking by the third entrance of the Rose Garden and she only realises that she's stopped moving when Lusar collides against her. He's too light to do anything to her but he stumbles and collapses. Rozaria doesn't _want_ to stop staring at the pretty lady but she also likes Lusar  too much to make him cry so she tears her eyes away and helps him up. Light as a feather, she wants to know if he actually has things inside his body or if he's just hollow. Not that it matters too much.

When she looks back with Lusar holding her hand, the beautiful lady is gone and Miss Anka is alone which makes her heart go cold. It hurts a bit, but she's only disappointed. She's sure she'll see her later anyway!

 

* * *

 

 

The second time Rozaria sees her lord is three centuries later when she is older and wiser and still not privy to the ways of the world.

She's called to the beauty of the throneroom for having caused too much trouble one too many times. That's what her gaju-nim (she's not allowed to call her mother anymore and sometimes she'll go to Lusar and weep in his arms because it isn't fair, and because he's the only one who understands why she feels so pained. the only one who can see that she is pained) says to her, sighing in the light blue of her walls and leaving, because even _she_ can be trusted to follow the lord's orders at least.

It makes her want to ignore it but she supposes that would only make things worse. Sure she's three-fifty now, more or less, and is considered mature by the laws of their people, but not by those of nature, and not by the journals written by one of her ancestors.

Simple handwriting, not elegant or fancy (so was he really an Elenor?), that detailed how to brew potions for illnesses that don't affect them (as such it was buried under books, long forgotten and loved only by dust for two or seven millennia, because if it doesn't help nobles then what's the use of them. as if humans aren't the ones they always seek to help, as if something not being useful to a few makes it useless, as if it doesn't go into so much detail about the werewolves that it makes her wonder if there was a time where they mingled often). His writing spoke of his daughter too, and of how she finally reached five-hundred, and of how that meant she was an adult at last. How it meant that in another hundred years, two, maybe three instead, he could go into eternal sleep because he could not live his life lying to everyone. Could not live when his lover was only a stroke of the brush away if he could not be with them (with her. with him. Rozaria wondered which it was because perhaps then she'd know if she was being right, or being wrong, or just being. she also wondered if he was always so poetic because Elenors usually aren't. their noses are buried too deep in their books or spells and just about anything else).

She wonders of this daughter as her feet (bare because the carpet is soft and she likes how it feels. clad in cloth shoes because she doesn't like the cold floor. in heels because her gaju-nim says that she must look proper) lead her through the boring halls, the boring walls, of the lord's castle. It is grand, and grey. There's some plush red, some gold, and everything is comfortable, but it's drab and sore to her eyes. She hopes she never gets used to it.

When she enters (head high, eyes straight ahead, confident. walk like you're on your way to kill your cheating husband, Lusar had told her once. it had made her laugh. two seconds later he’d started laughing too, barely choking out a. walk like you're straight) she wants to stop, turn around, and leave the way she came because the lord's daughter has only become so much more beautiful since the first time she saw her. Maybe it's Rozaria's age talking, or maybe it's _hers_.

Still she walks up to where she's supposed to, not even the slightest bit off, and kneels. Talking while thinking about how stunning the lord's daughter is certainly isn't smart. That's why she does better.

“My lord,” Rozaria says, acknowledging him rather than greeting him (Lusar would call that a power move).

Before he can say anything, she speaks again, “My lady, the most beautiful woman this world has ever had the honour of having upon her.”

She can't exactly see anything with her bead bowed and eyes on the floor but the overwhelming power in the room flickers, and then the lord laughs.

“Stand up. I was planning on having some sorta punishment for you because of that stunt you pulled but I'll let it slide.”

The lord doesn't look serious at all, smiling as she gets up, but that's a given. Two years ago she had come here while running from another noble blessed by her pranks (Loyard-gaju is terrifying and she hopes that Lusar's father becomes the new one soon) and he had covered for her, even giving her ideas for what she could do. He's funny, and she's starting to wonder if his daughter received her abilities to stay out of sight from a ghost. She's not sure how a pairing like that would work, but he could do it.

“I wasn't sure what a suitable punishment would be anyway so now I don't have to think one up.”

His daughter, cheeks pink, surely from her words, frowns at him but doesn't say anything. He notices easily enough though, and she wishes her gaju-nim was like that.

“Don't look like that, why don't you introduce yourself to her?” The lord urges her on as she looks hesitant. “She even complimented you.”

She turns to Rozaria, looking doubtful, “I am Erga Kenesis di Raskreia. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Rozaria smiles, trying not to let her giddiness show by tapping her heels. It's hard but it might annoy her and that wouldn't be a good impression to have.

“My mother gave me the name Rozaria Elenor, my lady.”

Lady Raskreia’s brows crease and she asks, “Why do you phrase it like that?”

She grins.

“It would be a pleasure to be called familiarly by my lady.”

Leaving the throneroom with Lady Raskreia blushing madly and the lord laughing without a care is satisfying. Though she could do without the lord.

 

* * *

 

 

The third time Rozaria sees her lord isn't long from the second and she isn't much older, nor has she learnt anything new that her gaju-nim would care for.

She _has_ learnt things though. Like if you talk to the tall sturdy trees with white bark here in the Tradio Gardens they'll talk back if they like you (and they only like you if you scratch their itch just right). Also that the name is rightfully given because the Tradio do indeed take care of the whole place. There's something terrifying about that. Not as terrifying as the butterflies though, because those are beautiful and when one was about to land on her a Tradio shooed it away while complaining about venomous pests. How are butterflies venomous? She _really_ wants to know.

It's while she wanders in search of a Tradio (the one with her disappeared and now she needs another but they all blend in so well with the thicket. maybe it's the tentacles for hair, they look like vines at times and it's pretty good camouflage. she's a bit jealous) that she finds Lady Raskreia standing lost in the middle of the patch of hungry cloves. There aren't actually any cloves there, much less hungry ones, but there used to be until the Tradio decided that the little things had bitten too many ankles. Shame. She had liked the anklebiters. They made cute noises.

“How are you, my lady?” It's a decent enough starter, better than asking if she's lost. If someone did that to her she’d probably set them on fire.

Burning things is fun. Any Agvain would agree.

Lady Raskreia turns to her and frowns. She does that often. Much too often and Rozaria is tempted to try out one of the horrible pick-up lines that Lusar is always using on Rajak. She might get punched but it would be worth it. Though, she somehow can't remember any of them at the moment...

“I am doing fine, it's a pleasure to meet you again Rozaria.”

The greeting snaps her back to the greenery (though can it really be called that if there's more white and blue than actual green?) around them.

“It appears,” she says, though it seems more as if she's forcing the words out of her throat, “that I cannot find my way back. Do you know the way?”

Rozaria tries not to laugh since that would surely fester a grudge but it doesn't work too well.

"Of course-" she points to her right, “-go straight there and the Loyard territory will appear.”

“Is that so?” Lady Raskreia still seems to be weighed down by something but it isn't her place to ask. Only a Mergas or Landegre are allowed that.

“What about the moving trees? They've... blocked my path several times.”

Her words are reluctant, as if she'll disappoint the Lord if she admits it. Perhaps she will. Perhaps Rozaria is simply assuming facts. Either way, a certain fear coils in her heart and it's colder than the one she has whenever Lusar is overly paranoid, or when she sees Rajak's younger brother toddling about without anyone watching over him.

Ignoring it is easy enough. After all, it is a false fear. If it was true, it would be scalding her. That's what her gaju-nim had proved to her, and she trusted it.

“Would you like me to lead the way? I'm quite familiar with the gardens and it likes me.”

Lady Raskreia twitches at her words and murmurs something close to ‘likes?’ but nods her head.

Rozaria just talks endlessly as she walks and now she understands why exactly Lusar can somehow be suave and stupid simultaneously with Rajak. She's complimented Lady Raskreia's beauty more times than she can count (it’s still not enough) and she has blushed everytime. Each one is burnt into her memory and now she isn't going to be able to tease Lusar for doing the same exact thing.

She purposely takes the long way around, extending the time she spends with Lady Raskreia, and yet they reach the Loyard territory much sooner than she had anticipated. Much sooner than she had wanted. She smiles and bows her head anyway.

“Thank you.” Lady Raskreia moves away and Rozaria almost goes red when she turns around because she had been staring.

“Perhaps,” she says, a small curve to her lips that has her screaming mindlessly, “we can talk again.”

“I would like that my lady,” she replies, unflinching.

Later she collapses on the grass under the large tree in the Mergas territory and screams like a madman while Lusar and Ludis laugh at her.

 

* * *

 

 

The third time she sees her lord, and the fourth and fifth and so many more, she becomes wiser.

She learns that though she loves her gaju-nim she doesn't need her approval. She finds herself in the diaries of Mariah and Falin Elenor (her beloved ancestors). She holds hands with Lusar and Ludis, and answers no to the looks she's given.

She learns of Raskreia (only Lady Raskreia in front of others and when she whispers it in her ear under the light of the moon to make her shiver) and of how her body fits into her. Of how she looks when she's tangled in the sheets of her bed, free from her clothes, free from that hairdo, free from herself. Of how she likes leaning into Rozaria's chest and talking about anything (everything) if it's with her. Of the night shining on her skin and the way her heart sings when it does. Of the letters Raskreia writes to her that she keeps treasured and locked away that make her blush everytime she thinks of them.

She likes being in love because now she knows what it's like to heal.

That doesn't make her like the Lord's castle more though.

 

* * *

 

 

She sees her lord's father for the last time when she isn't even close to never seeing her lord again.

His decision to go into eternal sleep is known, and she doesn't want to admit the hatred she feels at it. Not because he makes Raskreia sad (she doesn't hate him for that because Raskreia doesn't) but for how her gaju-nim is preparing to join him.

Rozaria doesn't remember the last time her gaju-nim, her mother, told her she loved her. Doesn't remember when she knew that her gaju-nim would never care for her as much as she did her duty. So she hates him for something that isn’t his fault.

And she hates him for how Urokai-gaju doesn't talk to her like he used to. For Gradeus-gaju who couldn't love Rayga-gaju anymore because of his obsession with him. For Edian-gaju who looks like a soulless doll and can't speak. For Miss Ignes and Miss Claudia (a woman so beautiful that she had fantasized of kissing her more than a few times) who nobody really ever talked to (except Rael but that's just more fuel for her hate) and Roctis-gaju who anyone can see is falling apart if they look twice.

She hates him for everything that goes wrong even though he isn't to blame. Even though she found him funny once.

He orders her to see him before he enters eternal sleep and like many times before she kneels in front of him.

“Stand up.”

And she does.

“Take care of Raskreia okay? Gosh I'm so worried about her. She'll make a good lord but she's still just a child. You're still young too but she listens to you. Make sure she doesn't just sit here all the time. Her butt will get sore and that sucks.”

He goes on talking and talking and it makes her feel even more guilty for hating him. The hot irons that press against her skin heat up more and she doesn't know how to react. Pain? It’s there but it's not like it hurts _that_ much.

Then he starts going on about how Raskreia will probably end up settling down with a man and how she needs to make sure she doesn't choose a bad one. Rage curls in her stomach, licking at the walls, and she can't just pretend to be okay.

Voice too loud, anger too obvious, she tells him, “Your daughter doesn't like men, sir.”

Then she leaves even though it's disrespectful, and in sandals because she hates how heels click against the floors. Because she hates heels.

Later at the ceremony she feels numb as he merely smiles at her and goes into eternal sleep. Cries as her mother kisses her forehead and says “I love you" and "I'm proud of you". Smiles when ‘Lady Raskreia’ turns to ‘Lord Raskreia’ and doesn't find herself surprised at the traitors’ betrayal. Laughs later that night as she talks to Raskreia and accepts how things have turned out.

Did Mariah Elenor feel like this when her father went into eternal sleep? Did she feel like this when she laid in bed with the Ru clan member she fell in love with? Did she feel the same way her father did, the same way Rozaria does, at experiencing these events that every gaju of the Elenors are subjected to?

She doesn't really need to know.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time she cries in her lord's arms are four centuries later when she loses the name she used to call out to, when she loses a hand she used to hold, when she loses the weight that she carried with ease.

She loses herself too, in Raskreia's embrace that night. Seira has holed up inside of herself but she can't do that. Ludis and Rajak went quiet in each other's company but that's not in her capabilities.

Rozaria cries loudly.

She wails and lets her tears blind her because the pain isn't even close to what she feels. Wiping her eyes and skin raw to the point of her hands coming away with blood doesn't compare to how her heart is torn. Seeing white hair, hearing high laughter, gets her everytime because she turns and, _it's not him_.

It's not the boy who once asked her what things would be like if he was a tree. It’s not her friend, who said to her,

 

_“If I was a tree, the one you saw and chose as your own,_

_You must take of me something, anything._

_Take the bark, it came off in your hands in an afternoon,_

_When the sun shone and made your head daze,_

_Eyes still as your mind was lost and your hands wandered,_

_Not intrigued, not bored,_

_And you decided, with bright eyes remembering words,_

_From your books,_

_And you hung that little thing around your neck,_

_With rope you stole from your mother's cupboard._

_Take a branch, broken from a rampaging beast,_

_Hanging by a sliver that you cut,_

_And try to carve it into the person that stands gracefully,_

_Hiding the wild fire in her,_

_Who you see in the notes of your grandmother’s diaries,_

_And the tears that speck her father's pages,_

_Then keep that rough trinket in your pouch,_

_Never out of reach._

_Cut me down,_

_Hear the beauty in my fall, love my death,_

_Make me into the grave of your enemies,_

_Build me into a fire that consumes your hatred,_

_Lets you love again.”_

 

Not the one she had rolled her eyes at then, smiling, and replied to with,

_“If you were a tree:_

_That I met at an age, that does not let me remember you,_

_Only your size,_

_Smaller than even my palm._

_That grew alongside me,_

_Faster than me,_

_Slower than me,_

_One day larger than I could ever be._

_Whose shade I laid under,_

_Whose trunk I had my back pressed against,_

_Whose branches and leaves I looked through,_

_Whom I climbed and spent leisurely days on._

_You would be left to be as you were,_

_Would be given gifts,_

_I would talk to you,_

_I would watch you grow._

_If you were a tree,_

_I would let you grow tall and large,_

_A sprawling monster,_

_A behemoth,_

_That people would fear,_

_For a ghost with blood-soaked hair lingers there,_

_And die under you where nobody would see me._

_If you were a tree,_

_I would still love you,_

_complete.”_

 

The steady beat of her heart is gone with that boy. Raskreia knows it as she clutches onto her and leaves in the night the same ghost that roamed under the tree.

At dawn she finds herself pressing Raskreia down, eyes still wet, and kisses her gently before smiling.

“You look wonderful like this my lady, as if the gods have blessed you with the golden hue you hold.”

At least she can still use Lusar's pick-up lines.

 

* * *

 

 

Rozaria follows her lord and sees her for the last time when she knows truly of how the world works.

This fight will kill them, though they go up against a weapon, not people. Yet she will still go.

Raskreia is her beloved lord. She is the protector of Lukedonia, the one who keeps them together, the one who stops them from straying from their paths. She grounds them and her existence reminds them of who they are, of what they stand for.

But that isn't why she obeys Raskreia.

A wild soul. That's what they've always called her, and she agrees. She's not much of an Elenor, doesn't crave knowledge or pay attention to Blood Witch’s demands. The lord is merely a figure, proof of a system that didn't work, that still doesn’t, for countless nobles that never betrayed Lukedonia.

She goes to her doom only because she is in love with the woman that orders her to.

 

* * *

 

 

They survive, and the only thing that Rozaria knows is that she'll see her lord many more times than she had thought she would. That she will still get to say Raskreia's name because she’s alive. That she will get to marry her love because now she has a ring on her finger.

The Lord's castle still remains as hateful as ever though and living in it sounds awful.

It isn't that bad a fate.


End file.
